Jaded Existence
by sunkissedchris
Summary: "Come out, come out, wherever you are, you can't hide from me, Dally..." Dallas' past has been haunting him for years. Will he be able to handle it when it comes barging through the Curtis' front door?
1. Prologue

*I don't own _The Outsiders._

Well, I feel like Dallas Winston has a lot more to his story, there must be something to make him the guy we know in the book. Therefore, I'm making a story up. Dallas may seem out of character, but I imagine his thoughts a little less smart ass, tough Greaser.

Also, rating may change depending on how I feel. There will definitely be some cursing, so if you think I need to up the rating, tell me.

Summary:

Dallas' past is coming to bite him in the ass. He better watch out before it swallows him whole.

(Third Person POV)

* * *

Dallas Winston leaned against the pole that held up the roof of the porch at the Curtis' house, mansion compared to where he considered his home now. His home consisted of four walls, a bed, a dresser, and a window at Buck's lovely shit whole. He watched the gang taunt one another and make jibes and insults towards each other's girlfriends.

He smirked in amusement as Darry slapped Two-Bit in the back of the head. "You haven't been on a date in months, please tell me you didn't forget your _needs_ that you've been neglecting," Dallas laughed as Muscles glared at him.

"Don't _you _start in on me too, Jesus one date and I'm the butt end of all the jokes," Darry scowled.

"Well, it's about time," Pony grinned cheekily as he glanced at his older brother.

Dallas laughed loudly. Pony was finally growing some balls. Dallas didn't want to admit the fact he cared about any of the guys in front of him, even though it was as obvious as the difference between day and night, at least he thinks so. Why else would he spend all his time around the Curtis'? Well, some may say it's the free food, hot water, and people who aren't complete idiots, but Dally didn't need help getting that stuff. Hell, these people were the closes thing he had to a family since Shawn.

Shawn Davners, his best friend, the person he ran to whenever he needed to escape the world. His raven haired, green eyed, tomboy best friend. She'd been around since he could remember; they were introduced by their parents and formed a tight bond. He loved that girl since he was a kid, sometimes as a friend, sometimes as something more. Dallas would be damned before he admitted to anyone that he missed her, but just because he wouldn't admit it, doesn't mean he it wasn't true.

Shawn was the one person who would ever be able to snap Dallas out of his cold hearted ways. Hell, she could crack the toughest hood, she saw through everyone and everything. She forced you to respect her, and Dally did. He once had been jealous of her talent of talking, but realized he had the next best thing, Shawn on his side.

That was until he screwed it all up. He caused his own depressing, hateful life. Dallas Winston could only blame himself for the unhappy state in which he lived. Sure, growing up on the streets of New York was hard, fighting kids twice you size was hard, losing people he held close was hard, watching his parents deteriorate in front of his face was really fucking hard, but that hadn't been what made Dallas Winston the people of Tulsa knew of today, nope it was the day he screwed up and got thrown in jail, causing Shawn to chew him to fucking pieces and spit him out again.

So what did he do in response to being torn, weary, and scared at the age of ten? He ran. He ran off and tried to never look back. He'd be a rotten liar if he said he didn't still send Christmas and Birthday cards to Shawn, or the errant post card or sometimes even an actual letter. He still wanted some sort of contact with Shawn; whether he realized it or not, he used her as a representation of his old self.

Any memory he considered happy was with Shawn, and he couldn't help but wonder if he needed her to be happy. He sure as hell couldn't find real happiness here in Tulsa. The gang gave him a lot, but it only went so far, they made him…_content_, not happy. The just weren't her, they weren't the same, and the gang will never understand him because they'll never grasp what New York was like.

So after all the shit he's been through, Dallas figured it should make him stronger, right?

Wrong, instead he hid himself. He may be able to fight physically, but emotionally and mentally he was shattered and withering away. Dallas couldn't let people in for fear they'd take what he had left, something he wouldn't gamble, not even with the gang who he has known for the past seven or eight years.

He was a fucking coward in his mind. He may have the balls to slice Tim Shepard's tires, but he didn't have the balls to say this is me, you either love it or you don't. It wasn't like he gave a shit about what people thought now, because this cold hearted bastard façade was the only part he let people see, they were judging him on that and only that, so why would he care what people thought about the worst part of him? He wasn't too sure if he liked what he became either.

Despite the fact that he believed Ponyboy needed to toughen up a bit so he could defend himself, he couldn't help but commend the kid. Pony worse his heart on his sleeve, something Dallas couldn't do. Pony is a good kid, he is smart, he is going somewhere, and Dallas admired that about him.

"Dal, Dally," Dallas glanced over towards Johnny. Everyone knew Dally had a soft spot for the dark haired kid. Dally just couldn't stand to see how broken Johnny was, he understood Johnny. They were two in the same; Dallas just had more practice covering it up with booze, girls, and a tough ass demeanor.

Johnny smiled a little bit, "You were so far away, are you okay?"

"Tired, just tired," he muttered, grounding his fag. God he was so tired, _tired of life._ Beaten, smashed, picked up again, squashed, chewed, and rung out _by life_. But, it's his life, no matter how fucked up.

Dallas walked into the house with the others, waiting for the lunch Darry promised him for helping out with painting earlier that morning. A tapping on the door made everyone pause, nobody knocked on the Curtis' door, everyone knew it was always open. That could only mean two things: A soc or the state. Dally hoped it was the former, he liked to beat Socs' faces in, it was entertainment.

When Dallas heard some girl's voice come floating in, he let boredom set in again. Darry talked to the girl as Dallas spaced out leaning against the kitchen counter, fumbling around with his lighter. "Well where is he?" A girl's voice asked.

"That way, kitchen," Darry answered.

"Well, well, Dallas you're looking a bit more rough than I anticipated, but that's okay, I can fix that right up," the girl said.

Dallas froze, he knew only one girl who would say anything along those lines, he shook his head in disbelief. He laughed, slightly bitter, as he turned his head to the raven haired girl from his childhood. Her hair was waist length, her emerald eyes blazed, a taunting smirk played on her pink lips, his eyes tailed down her body, goddamn she had the longest fucking legs he'd ever seen. "Shawn," he responded coldly.

Her grin widened in response, she walked over and kissed his cheek, "Miss me," she breathed into his ear.

A spark came into his eyes that the gang had never seen before, they watched with curiosity, wondering how he would respond to the gorgeous girl who just waltzed in like she owned the place, "Maybe," he answered dangerously.

"You should know by now I like games, Dallas, and I always win."

"Nothing better than a lost cause."

* * *

I'm extremely excited about this story. There's alot of lose ends between Dally and Shawn, but what can you expect from someone who was in jail at the age of ten?

Tell me what you think, the more the reviews the faster I update.


	2. Shit Load of Secrets

*I don't own _The Outsiders._

* * *

_(Eight year old Dallas Winston)_

_The dark street was familiar, yet always contained unknown threats. I kept Shawn close to my side, if anyone was going to sneak up on us, I wasn't going to risks us getting split up. There is power in numbers, especially on New York streets at night._

"_It's freaking cold as hell," Shawn complained._

"_Suck it up," I told her, what a baby. Spring was right around the corner, we made it through some hell worthy blizzards this winter, and she wants to complain now that it's finally hitting upper thirties at night? There is something wrong with that girl, sometimes I like that, but most of the time, like now, it just annoys me._

"_School tomorrow," she mumbled, glumly, trying to strike up some conversation._

"_Yeah, like any other Wednesday. Now what is your problem? Because, you keep talking about stupid stuff and you only do that if you're trying not to think about something."_

_She sighed, looking down. Swallowing hard she whispered, "You know Annie and how tough she is?"_

"_Obviously, probably helps that she's older than us too."_

"_Yeah well there was this guy who was feeling her up when we were leaving school…," she trailed off for a second._

"_Okay and I'm sure Annie took care of it," I hedged, softly. I could tell whatever happened was upsetting her, I just didn't understand what. Seeing some pedo feel up someone wasn't exactly abnormal around here._

"_She stabbed him, Dal! She just pulled out a blade from nowhere and stabbed him in the thigh. She walked away, leaving the blade in the guy and he screamed. We were all starring horrified, not that seeing a wound is that rare, but it was gushing and he was begging for someone to pull it out. I never saw someone in that much pain and Annie just walked away, like nothing happened!"_

_I threw my arm around Shawn's shoulders and looked at her, "That's our life for you, doll. I don't see why you're upset, you saw Tony with a stab wound before."_

"_It was the guy's reaction, he just screamed, Dal. I never heard anyone scream like that, it was like he thought he was dying," she whispered, starring at me with wide eyes._

"_He had a low tolerance for pain, just forget it."_

"_It ain't easy for me to forget something like that," she grumbled, seemingly more upset. _

_I sighed, "That's 'cause you care too much. You can't care about everything that moves, plus Annie wouldn't have done something like that if she didn't think it was necessary, obviously the guy deserved getting stabbed by an eleven year old girl."_

_Shawn threw me a bitter look, "I can't help that I care and I ain't defending the bastard, I'm just saying, I hope I never hear someone scream like that again."_

_I rubbed her arm with my hand; she was going to have to accept that shit as a part of our lives. Violence, blood, and death go hand and hand when your school is in the middle of two gang turfs, the only thing you can do is stick together and fight your hardest. You can't even hope to ease through, there's someone waiting around every bend to get you._

_***_

"Who is this pretty broad, Dally?" Two-Bit drawled.

I glanced away and rolled my eyes as Shawn began to speak before I could even get a word in. "Shawn Davners," she smiled brightly, looking like a cat going in for the kill. "And you are?" She practically fucking purred. Goddamn, puberty has treated her well.

"Two-Bit Matthews, at your service," his eyes scanned her.

I snorted, "Real subtle, _Keith._" The cocky bastard didn't even look ashamed.

Shawn looked around, "You must be Darry, Soda, Pony, Steve, and Johnny," she stated. "Pleasure to meet you all."

"Well it seems you know us, but who the hell are you?" Steve asked, with all the class of a West Side Soc.

"I just told you," she smirked smartly, toying with Steve. She knew what he was asking, but she found it fun to mess around with people, even when she shouldn't. I figured Steve was going to hate her after about five minutes of conversation. I snickered looking at Steve's annoyed face, maybe less than five minutes, more like five seconds.

"Alright, alright," she sighed, pouting, "you're no fun. I'm Dally's best buddy from New York, saved his ass more times than I count and, sadly I must admit, he's saved mine too," she flashed me a grin, "Ain't that right?"

"For some reason, that I can't seem to recall, I hung out with you crazy bitch," I answered.

I saw Darry's surprise look, obviously not expecting me to talk like that to someone who was my best bud, or maybe he was surprised she didn't slap me. Instead of looking pissed, she beamed, her eyes sparkled with mischief, "Don't forget who has all your dirty little secrets locked in her head, I still remember little four year old Dally in Kindergarten, hell I even got pictures of a diaper wearing Dallas running around my house," she smirked.

"The cat is out of the bag, I was a kid at one time," I replied lamely. "And, in case you forgot, the whole blackmailing thing works both ways. I'll ruin your rep before you can even make one around these parts."

"I go down and the world is going with me, we've discussed this before," she replied nonchalantly, "And, in case you forgot, the world includes you Dallas," she mocked.

"She's the cause of all my misery," I said half serious to the gang. They chuckled, watching her prance around; unashamed that she was just going through the Curtis' house. Shawn turned, "Hope you don't mind I'm here, Dal said you don't usually mind," she hopped onto the counter, crossing those ridiculously gorgeous legs.

"No, we don't mind. So you came down here from New York to see Dal?" Darry asked, what a curious little dyke, along with the rest of them. Jeez, sue me, so what if I never mentioned my best bud that I talked about was a girl.

"Pretty much, things get tedious after awhile."

"You're saying _New York City_ got boring?" Pony said in disbelief.

She smiled at him, "Nah, it doesn't get boring because shit is always happening, but you do get tired of that shit. It seems pretty relaxed around here; I hit that one place on the main road, The Dingo or something like that."

"Yeah and what you think?" I responded automatically.

"I liked it; of course some people gawked openly at me like I was some sort of fucking alien. Don't new people show up all the time?" She muttered.

"Not at The Dingo, it's known for getting a little rough, it where Greasers hang out. By the way, if I were you, I'd avoid Jay's and places where Socs hang out," I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, "They'll try to eat you alive."

"Key word: try. Don't worry about me, I won't start nothing," she meant to grin innocently, but she looked like a little imp. "The Dingo didn't seem too bad; there was one fight when I was there. I got on a table and watched it, they were pathetic, but they seemed kind of young so maybe I'm being too harsh," she said, distracted by the pictures hanging on the living room wall.

"Well fights here probably ain't what your use to. Greasers stick together, even if those two kids fought today, I wouldn't be surprised if you see them laughing together tomorrow," Two-Bit explained.

"Hmm…interesting," Shawn hummed. "You could definitely say that's a bit different."

I chuckled in agreement, "Why are you here?"

"I can't come in see by best friend in the whole world after he left me all on my lonesome eight years ago?"

"You still have other motives."

"Like?"

"Don't know," I admitted, "but, I'll find out soon enough."

* * *

Just keep adding to the pile of questions.

So what do you think of the little flashback? Miss Shawn isn't so caring now-a-days is she? Or maybe she is...

Please review!


	3. Watch Out, Dally

*I don't own _The Outsiders._

(Shawn's POV)

* * *

_(Ten year old Shawn, New York City)_

_Another place, another wasted night, another disappointment. I didn't want to believe the note that was clenched in my fist, the one Dallas had obviously written, was true. I didn't want to believe that Dallas had taken off for good. I didn't want to believe that he left New York. This was his home, our home… but not anymore._

_Now, here I was sitting in the fucking cold all alone. He left me. I don't even know why. I mean, sure we had that little argument after he got out of jail, but it isn't like we don't argue, what would make it different this time? _

_Hot tears ran down my face, I can't believe he left me here. I would never abandon him; I thought the feeling was mutual. "Fuck you Dallas Winston, let God strike you dead wherever the hell you are," I growled, pissed that he was making me feel like this. We were supposed to be friends forever and he ditched me like I was nothing. _

_He didn't even say goodbye to my face. My heart ached; I was going to miss him. What if that fight, when he was so pissed, was the last time I ever see him? What if he never contacts me again? Well, then I guess he ain't worth the pain. I grimaced, knowing whether he was worth it or not was a moot point. Dally was my friend, the guy I went to, the guy who helped me no matter what, I confided in him about everything and anything, I wasn't going to be able to just let him go._

"_You can run, Dallas, but you can't fucking hide from me," I smirked, drying my tears. I'd see him again, because I wanted to and he of all people know I don't stop until I get what I want, even if I got to work for it. _

_***_

Going after Dallas had almost become one of my beloved games, I must admit. For so long, I've waited for him to give me some information. I could've gotten down here one way or another if I wanted to after the first postcard, but no, I waited. I waited until he sent more than three words; I waited a long fucking time for those little paragraphs to become full out letters.

That's when I knew Dallas Winston missed me. I was his best friend, his confident, the person he turned to, and those letters proved it. He wouldn't have ever sat down and written out a two page letter if he didn't miss me, he wouldn't have told me about his friends, the gang, who he considered family. He wouldn't ask me my opinion about what I thought about them if he didn't give a shit.

He may have made me wait for six years for that damn letter, but I have patience. It took me two more years to get out of the City. At eighteen, there wasn't a parent there blocking my way to freedom, during those two years, I was able to save up and get out without me owing anyone a dime.

Getting to Tulsa was still a pain in the goddamn ass. All the buses, trains, and hitch hiking was boring and uncomfortable. However, it was Dallas and I knew a long time ago that he was worth all this shit. Plus, I wanted to prove to myself that I would see Dally again. Ever since that winter night, sitting alone on the sidewalk, crying over him taking off, I knew I'd see him again, if nothing more to give him some grief over ditching me.

That little shit thought I'd let go? Hell no, and by the sounds of it, he couldn't either. At first, there was no contact, and then came a Christmas card, a Happy Birthday note, and that lasted a while. Sometimes I'd get the random paragraph long note telling me about a fight or some ho he was doing at the time, but it was progress. I wrote back, always the same amount and I would patiently wait for his response. Then, right around six years after Dally left, I got a whole three pages describing Tulsa, where he hung out, who he hung out with, descriptions of the Socs and Greasers, and his thoughts on the social classes and how it differed so from New York: that's when I knew he was cracking.

I know this sounds arrogant, but I doubt Dallas found another _me_. You don't just replace a lifetime long friendship with a snap of your fingers. Just because he moved to another city, didn't mean that he'd find someone like me. It just took him a long time to realize that nobody here would understand him like I do. I get him without words, I just have to look at his face and I know.

That's what you get when you've been friends since birth, that's what you get when you've fought for your life next to someone, and that's what you have when there's trust in a relationship. I knew since that night he left, that would be his biggest problem.

Dallas is such a cynical person; it'd take him a decade before he trusted any of these hoods down in Tulsa. But, he trusted me, he knew I would never screw him over, he knew I was there for him, once again that was the benefit of growing up together.

Dallas wasn't always so cynical; he was actually a kind hearted child. Too bad his parents fucked that up; I doubt I'd be in this situation if they hadn't.

The dirty highway stretched out in front of me, the sun was setting, but you could still see the heat waves rising from the blacktop. I was sweating and felt like I hadn't showered in days, when in fact I had showered that morning.

I smirked at the Welcome to Tulsa sign.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are, you can't hide from me, Dally," I chuckled. "A blast from your past is gonna bite you in your ass!" I smiled to myself, just a few more miles to go.

* * *

Anyone out there? Thanks to those who have reviewed, I appreciate it alot. I really do think this will be a great story, only people aren't reading it...

Please, please review!


	4. PB&J

*I don't own _The Outsiders, _Mrs. Hinton does.

(DPOV)

* * *

Her eyes took in the small room, the wood paneling, single bed, and small dresser. Clothes littered the floor and were piled in the corner, and on top of the dresser. She finally glanced over to me, "This place is shitty, but not the worse," she chuckled.

I decided to get right to the point, "When are you going to tell me why you're here?"

"Is it that hard to believe that I missed you?" Shawn countered.

"You're telling me that after I left you on your own, that you still missed me enough to come all the way to Tulsa to look for me?" I snorted in disbelief. Shawn is a go getter type of person, she did as she pleased, and did anything in her power to get what she wanted. She is ruthless when she wants something, and I had a feeling she wanted something from me, or felt like she had something to prove.

I just don't know what that something is yet.

"Yes," she replied coolly, shrugging. "You're my best friend, Dally. We grew up together, went through everything together, is it really that hard to believe I'd want to rekindle that connection? We weren't just friends, we knew each other better than we knew ourselves…we reacted to one another automatically, without thought…I want that back," she murmured, not looking at me.

I'd be a fool to believe her. She was still my friend, a friendship like ours isn't something you just forget or leave behind, but it's been a long time since we seen each other face to face. A lot has changed on both sides; I couldn't just trust her based on the past when there was so much time in between now and then.

I think I know her, but at the same time, there's doubt. The fact that there's any doubt means I'm going to tread carefully; I won't let her chew me out again. I grinned, "I don't trust you," I said bluntly.

Anger flared in her eyes, making her look like an angry stallion. "When did _I _ever give _You _a reason not to trust me. If anyone fucked up, it was you. You got thrown in jail, you acted out, you got caught up in shit that you shouldn't have, and you are the one who ran like a sissy when things got hotter than you liked," she tossed a lighter roughly back into its lonely place on my dresser.

"We've had this conversation," I grumbled, hoping that I looked unaffected by her words.

Though, they stung, they stung real bad. It's one thing to know when you've messed up, and another to have someone you give a shit about tell you that you're a mess up. That's why I never give a damn about what people think, if I did, I'd drive myself crazy trying not to be a disappointment-and let's face it, I'm Dallas fucking Winston, that just ain't going to happen.

Shawn smirked wickedly, "No, I had a monologue while you stared at me looking like a pussy."

"Don't tell me you came here just to bitch me out?" I quirked an eyebrow, something I learned from Two-Bit. Shawn is bullheaded; I wouldn't put it past her to come down all the way to Tulsa just to give me a piece of her mind. Though, my gut was telling me it wasn't just that-my instincts are usually right so I wasn't going to stop bugging her about it until she broke.

I can be stubborn too, though I prefer to call it determination.

"Maybe, maybe not. I already told you, I came here 'cause I missed my best friend. I don't know why you're trying to make me into some bitch who wants revenge or something. I don't have enough against you to waste my time plotting all these years," she chuckled, "quit flattering yourself; I don't have that kind of time."

I smirked cockily, "I still wouldn't put it past you."

She laughed loudly, "Please tell me," she sneered, "What did I do, to earn so little trust from you?" She looked at me with her piercing eyes, and I resisted the urge to look away.

"Look at the circumstances; you're in Tulsa, supposedly to see me, even though I ditched you in New York eight years ago. Childhood friendship or not, you don't just randomly track across the fucking country to have a chat with an old friend," I lit a cigarette and took a long, soothing drag.

"You always said I cared too much, think of this as an extension of that," Shawn muttered. "Plus, I wanted to see how you are really living, a couple descriptive lines that you scrawled out on a page is hardly anything compared to seeing it myself. I was curious about the Grease and Soc thing going on. It's a different life style around here, not to mention how you went on about them boys," she rolled her eyes. "Ever think I just wanted to know who was replacing me?"

"Hypocrite."

"How?!" She demanded, glaring.

"You go on about how you're here for our friendship, the one neither of us found in anyone else because we grew up together, now you're sprouting off about being replaced? Fuck baby, you losing your touch?" I laughed cruelly at her.

She didn't even flinch.

She shrugged, "I'm not arrogant enough to not think I haven't been replaced to an extent," she responded coldly, not flustered in the least. "But come one Dally, where you going to find another me?" she smirked.

"Yeah, not cocky at all," I grumbled, sick of this conversation. I wasn't getting anywhere, I never get anywhere with her, unless she wants me to. Just like old times I suppose, you're lucky if she's on your side, and a pitiful bastard if you aren't.

It's Shawn's game: her rules, on her time…all her.

If you figure out her rules, you tell me because I haven't gotten anywhere in all of these years.

We stayed silent, until she shoved my legs and sat down. She looked good, her hair was shiny, her complexion smooth except for a small scar right under her eyebrow where she took a nasty hit with a broken bottle, and her body was long and lean.

"How is it back in New York, same old shit?" I asked.

She shrugged, "Pretty much. Tony is still hanging around, Annie is dead, a lot of people are fucking dead, but it's not that surprising. The people we hung out with as kids weren't exactly the brightest."

"Except for you," I said sarcastically, bitterly, "You got out before the crap fest even began."

She looked at me oddly for a moment, "You say that as if you wish you did too," she smirked.

"You asked what you did wrong, that's what you did wrong. You ditched everyone. Everyone," I said, pissed.

Shawn ditched me first. If she had been there, I wouldn't have ever been in fucking jail.

She laughed, angry and hurt, "Oh yeah, because I wanted to risk going to jail. Sorry, I was smart enough to get out before things got out of hand. _I'm so fucking sorry, Dallas, that I was smart enough to know when things were getting too complicated._"

I didn't say anything; I didn't know what to say.

Shawn stood up abruptly, "I warned all of you, especially you, Dally! You were just too fucking stubborn to listen," she huffed angrily. "It was all your damn fault that you got thrown in that hell hole, you were the one dealing drugs!"

She stomped out of the room, I took another drag on my cigarette and said, "Needed the money," my voice got louder and carried down the hall to her, "You do some desperate stuff when you can't afford some fucking bread because your stepdad spent it all on cheap booze!" With that I slammed my door shut, and slid down it to the floor.

"I wanted money for fucking peanut butter and jelly," I whispered.

I remember getting my first pay for a delivery, I didn't deal, I delivered for the guy who did, and I remember getting just a couple twenties the first time. All I did, once I got that money, was go on down to the store and buy the stuff for a fucking PB&J and some milk.

I scowled; she would've done the same thing if she had it that bad at home. She didn't have a lot for dinner, but she had something.

Something is better than nothing.

* * *

It broke my heart a little bit to write that about Dally! All he wanted was some food, so sad. Next chapter, Tim Shepard will be making his grand appearence.

Thanks for the reviews everyone, they were really great and I truely appreciate them.

Please review.


	5. Jack Daniel's, My New Best Friend

*I don't own _The Outsiders._

(DPOV)

* * *

Buck's was alive with activity of all kinds, just like any other Friday night. Every freaking time I thought about that conversation with Shawn I felt my blood begin to boil. But what the hell, I was use to it.

It wasn't the first time she chewed me out.

Or the first time she brought up less than pleasant memories…

Or the first time she brought up the best of memories, she's apart of all of them.

Where the fuck is the Jack Daniel's?

Yes, I sat there like the pussy I am and drank my sorrows away. I felt like a hypocrite, I cuss the very ground my stepfather walks on for drinking us into poverty, yet I sit here and do the same thing he did: drink myself into a cloudy oblivion.

Tim Shepard's voice broke me from my inner ramblings, "She's a fine one, feisty too," he chuckled, "told me off real good, I'm impressed," he grinned, his eyes trained on whatever broad he was targeting. He hit my arm, "Man, check her out!"

I huffed in annoyance, I didn't feel like company, but at the same time I didn't want to sit and wallow by myself, God I am such a pitiful bastard. I followed his gaze and found Shawn.

She just keeps creeping up on me, doesn't she? Why the fuck is she everywhere? It doesn't matter whether she's here or she's in New York, she somehow leaks into my mind.

It's getting really annoying. I don't like the fact that she dominates my childhood, and I don't know how I feel about her making me miss her, and I don't think I like that she's here and…_tainting _what was all mine and not mine and hers.

I glanced at Shepard sharply, "Leave her alone, you'll just get burned in the end," I grabbed the cigarettes from his jacket pocket, plucked one out, and lighted it.

"You know her? Tell me 'bout her, she good in the sack?"

I felt my blood heat up; I didn't like the idea of Shepard anywhere near Shawn. She's a lot of things, but whore ain't one of them, and I wasn't going to have Timmy here thinking that he could use her without a consequence.

Shawn can stand up for herself, but I still don't like the idea of Shepard near her.

I growled out, "Leave her alone."

"You never said anything 'bout any raven gal, Winston," Shepard said hotly, he didn't take well to someone telling him what to do. "What would Silvia say?"

I whirled around on the bar stool, facing him, "That's Shawn Davners; she's my buddy from New York. You want to mess with her? Fine by me, but don't say I didn't warn you, because she got enough skill to take you Shepard," I turned away from him; he's such a fucking idiot.

"Old girlfriend?"

"Hell no," I laughed at the thought of me and Shawn together.

We'd kill each other within a fucking month…actually we'd be lucky to make it that far. She's been in Tulsa for a week and we already had a blow out.

"It's rare to see you protecting someone, Dallas," Shepard smiled in amusement.

I glared at him, "Believe what you want, but I ain't kidding when I say she can kick your sorry ass."

"It's true, he speaks from experience," Shawn cooed tauntingly, waltzing into the conversation uninvited.

"Hey, baby, how you doing this fine night?" Shepard grinned, showing yellowed teeth.

I rolled my eyes, nursing my whiskey, cherishing the burst of warmth that hit my throat on it's way down.

I felt warm breath brush my ear, "That ain't gonna chase the cold away, Dally," she sang softly in my ear.

Fuck, if that weren't the truth.

_*** (Dallas' POV, five years old)_

"_What do you want to be when you grow up?" Shawn asked me._

"_Police officer," I answered automatically. I'd wanted to be an officer for a while now. They're there to protect the public, help people; I respect them for risking their lives to make sure I'm safe._

_I think it's pretty dang awesome that they get to carry guns around too, real tough people carry heaters._

"_What about you?"_

"_I don't know what I want to do. There are too many things, and once you pick something, that's kind of it," she muttered. "I do know that I want to see the world though. Ain't it cool how so many people want to come to New York and live here and stuff, and we already do?"_

"_I never really thought about it," I answered honestly. I guess it's kind of tuff living here._

"_Promise me you'll travel the world with me, Dal," she sat up quick, her eyes shining brightly, "I want you to be with me when I see everything."_

_I smiled at her, "I'll go." _

_She hugged me and it felt good._

_*** (nine years old)_

_I stared at myself in the mirror. Blood dripped down the side of my face, but it wasn't nearly as bad as the cut on Shawn's face. I grabbed her roughly by the arm and made her sit down on the lid of the toilet. I rambled through the cabinet, until I found my first aid kit._

_The kit was probably one of the nicest things I owned, I splurged on it since I use it more frequently than not._

_I found the rubbing alcohol, bandages, needle, and thread, sighing I said, "That's going to need stitches."_

_She glared at me as if it were my fault the douche bag hit her in the face with a broken bottle. I hated that, how she looked at me as if I were as bad as him, I'm not. I'm better than him; I wouldn't break a bottle on a girl's face._

"_Just get it over with," her voice cracked a little, she quickly tried to cover it up. _

_I couldn't help but soften a little, "I'll try to stitch it up nice, I know you don't want a big scar on your face." _

_I also knew that it wasn't the possible scarring that was bothered her, she was scared._

_Shawn tried to stay relaxed as I sewed the small, yet deep, cut above her eyebrow. I tried to be gentle, but a stitching is a bitch no matter what. _

_I finished quickly and started cleaning up the bloodied towels, and fixing up my own cuts._

"_I ain't doing this shit anymore, you can count me out from now on," her voice was soft, but her eyes were hard and determined._

_I knew that look, she wasn't going to give._

"_They'll hurt you if you refuse," I answered back._

"_I ain't into this. I haven't been there long, and this is not for me, I'm getting out before the real shit starts," her voice shook a little, "you should too," she whispered._

"_I don't want to."_

"_Then you're an idiot, it won't stay like this. It isn't always going to be fists, eventually there will be bigger samples being traded, more money involved, more people, knives, heaters, and you can't stitch a gunshot wound, Dal, and this will continue on until everything spirals and falls apart."_

"_I doubt Ed will let that happen," I mumbled. I'm not sure if I believed myself, Shawn had a good point._

"_He's a druggie like the rest of them, it's just a matter of time until he slips up and the people doing the runs start getting hurt. You know it's us who gets hurt, look at my freaking face, look at your face. This was over a small sample, scraps, thirty bucks, what's going to happen when it's a hundred bucks, two hundred, five hundred? Ed won't refuse business, he just won't, and it's just a matter of time," Shawn crossed her arms across her chest._

"_I'm staying, I won't abandon Ed now." I knew what it was like to be abandoned; I wasn't going to do that to someone else._

_Shawn reached in her pocket, slid me the key to the hang out, and walked out without saying a word._

_It hurt to watch her leave._

_Uncertainty bubbled in my chest, what was I getting myself into?_

_I thought about the twenties in my back pocket from my latest run, it was the difference between a bare kitchen and going to bed with a full stomach…I didn't want to go back to staring at a kitchen with no food, I didn't want to go back to having no heat when it was below freezing at night._

_I stared at myself in the mirror once again. I chuckled bitterly at myself; I was delivering illegal drugs to the biggest scum in New York, what happened to wanting to make everything safer, better for everyone? What happened to the kid who wanted to be a police officer and travel the world with his best friend? _

_Life happened._

_I patted my pocket; I couldn't just leave like she could._

* * *

Poor Dally needs the money! I loved the irony of Dallas wanting to be a police officer when he was younger. In the book, he always tried to spite the law in the smallest ways, it stems from this last part right here. There's a little more to it, maybe you'll catch it in a later chaper?

Thanks so much for the review, they're fantastic!

Tell me your opinions, please keep reviewing!


	6. Nosey Little Bastards

*I don't own _The Outsiders__._

* * *

The criminal cry  
Beautiful roaring pain,  
Seren  
As the rage of love  
Alegria  
As an assault of joy

Alegria  
As the light of life  
Algeria  
As a clown who cries  
Algeria  
The great cry  
Of crazy sorrow  
Serena  
As the rage of love  
Alegria  
As an assault of happiness

-Alegria, by Cirque du Soleil, translated into English

* * *

(SPOV)

"Who does that fucker think he is?" I muttered to myself. It wasn't like I didn't hear his last statement. So what? He wanted fucking food? Well guess what, fucker, there's other ways of going about getting food than selling, I mean delivering, drugs to whores and burn outs.

They're all so pathetic; I don't know how Dal could've stood it. Dally ain't winning a Nobel Prize anytime soon, but he isn't stupid by any means. Just goes to show you what the street does to good people.

I sighed, "Don't know what the fuck I expected, but it wasn't this." I didn't want to get in the fight with the guy, really didn't. Half of it was all talk anyway, I wouldn't come down here to chew him out, I really wouldn't.

I missed the fucker. Though part of me did want to prove to myself I'd see him again, alive preferably. I sat down on the curb and rubbed my forehead, I felt like my head was going to explode. I knew Dal had it rough at home, rougher than I had it, but I didn't know he was scrounging for food.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered to myself. Hell, I would've gotten him some fucking food if that was the problem. I would've done anything for him, and he knew it, yet he still didn't ask me for help. How come he could protect me and I couldn't protect him? How come I could sit there and spill my guts to him and he couldn't return the favor?

Did he really not trust me?

I felt my throat tighten with unshed tears, "That just ain't right," I muttered, sniffing a bit. Almost a decade later and that mother fucker is still bringing me to tears.

I stalked off again until I hit a gas station, a big one that included a mechanic shop. The air conditioning hit me when I pulled the door open, alerting whomever with one of those stupid little tinkling bells, I don't know how the people who work here can stand those pieces of shit, I'd end up ripping it off the door and getting in trouble for vandalism or something.

I walked to the back and grabbed a Pepsi; I popped it open even though I hadn't paid for it. I was going to; I wasn't going to rob the people of money. That's what I hate about stealing, it makes me feel like people look at me and think I can't afford what I want…I _hate _that, I can get what I want without having to cheat to get it.

"You know Shawn, you're supposed to pay for it first," I heard a warm chuckle sound behind me.

I glanced at the wheat color haired, beauty of a man in front of me, "Soda," I greeted, any previous signs of distress whipped off my face, it wasn't any of his business.

"Where've you been? Staying with Dal?" he asked curiously.

"I got a room at Buck's," I responded distantly.

"Come on over here, Pone, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Stevie are here."

I shrugged and followed him over to the counter where I paid for the half empty soft drink.

Steve gave me a serious look, "What are you doing walking by you lonesome? It ain't New York, but it's still dangerous," he frowned at me. It made me not like him, who the hell did he think he was, my father? That's what he reminded me of, when my Dad decided to care and got all disapproving and shit.

I smirked at him, "I'm a big girl, I know how to handle myself."

He gave be a dubious looked, but didn't say anything when I shot a glare at him. I don't like that kid, really don't.

Soda cleared his throat, breaking some of the tension, "Buck's is a rough place, I doubt you're getting much sleep in them parts," Soda looked concerned. It was weird, he didn't know me, so why the fuck did he give a shit?

However, he was right; there were some late night activities that got a little _loud._

I grinned widely at all of them, "They scream and I scream right back," I chuckled, thinking about Buck getting pissed at me. He rented those rooms out, and I was yelling at his customers. "Buck hates my guts," I said, almost cheerfully, it was pretty funny.

I giggled a little bit in amusement when I saw the flush covering Pony and Johnny's faces, "You ain't use to people saying shit like that?" I asked 'em. "I thought you hung around Dal all the time."

Pony glanced at me and looked away, embarrassed, "We do hang with him," he said softly.

"And you still turn the color of a tomato? Hmph," I smiled. Some of the other guys started chuckling; I couldn't find it in me to feel bad about embarrassing the two of them. In a way, it was kind of sweet; I could see why Dallas liked them. I knew for a fact he was in the background looking out for the two of them, whether they realized it or not.

"You two remind me of Dal when he still wanted to be a police officer," I was slightly surprised that I actually let that slide out, oh well, ain't my reputation I'm ruining.

The Two-Bites kid chocked on his beer, and I swear I saw Steve's jaw dropped. They stared at me in disbelief. I nodded, "Yup, when we were about five I'd say, maybe, no, five, Dal wanted to be a police officer. Me and him also made plans to travel the world together, but so far he hasn't done too good on that promise, unless you count all that goddamn hitch hiking I had to do to get to fucking Tulsa," I exclaimed, mildly annoyed. That trip was hell. I wasn't even able to really appreciate any of the landscapes or nothing.

I watched as the boys glanced at one another, "Mhmm, Dally was a kid with big dreams, like anyone else. The man you see today is a product of a good person thrown into the streets with no sense of direction," I chuckled, he may be big bad Dallas Winston here, but he didn't always know everything. "But, he's really just a pussy, he runs when he doesn't like the way things are going. Tulsa is pretty easy going, he's nice and comfortable playing his role as a hood around here, but he's just a dickwad," I smirked, "he always runs."

"Dally ain't never ran from a fight before," Steve drawled, his eyes narrowed.

"That you've seen. And I ain't talking about just a physical fight, I know he can handle that, but there's a certain mentality that must be obtained to survive what he needed to get through, and he failed. He's tough, but he ain't tough enough to handle what he had to back in New York. I ain't gonna sit here and tell you what he ran from, I already spilt enough to get my throat slit, but I will tell you that he wasn't able to deal with it then…he might be able to _now_, but I promise you he's still suffering through it. I know who Dally really his, the kid behind the glare and temper and flying fists, and I ain't seen him in a long time."

I glanced at their thoughtful faces; Johnny nodded to himself, as if what I said made sense and was just a confirmation for something he already knew.

"I'll see you later," I grinned and left before they had the chance to say anything.

I was nearly on the street when I heard someone call my name. I stopped and glanced behind me, the dark haired kid followed me. I raised an eyebrow, "Can I help you, Johnny?"

"Why are you here if you don't like Dally?" He asked bluntly. Honestly, I was slightly taken aback; I hadn't expected anything like that from this kid, maybe Steve.

"I never said I didn't like him."

"But you just said all that stuff, and I don't understand why'd you come here. You're in trouble aren't you, or maybe Dally is?" The kid looked at me with wide, dark eyes.

I sighed, "Dal means a lot to you doesn't he, you two are good pals right?"

He nodded wearily. I could definitely see the constant fear in his eyes that Dally had told me about in one of his letters. I instantly felt kind of bad for the kid, which made me soften up a tiny bit. Dally is right, I really do care too much.

"Dal ain't in trouble. The only trouble he has is the trouble he makes for himself around here, and the demons he battles in his own mind," I sighed. "I don't know why any of you care, but I ain't in trouble. I care about Dally, believe it or not, alright?" I didn't like talking about my feelings, but I didn't think Johnny would tell anyone anything, maybe that Pony kid, but he seemed sort of sweet in that little cousin kind of way.

"I believe you," he said so softly, I almost couldn't hear. Apparently his quota of courage was used up. I had to smile to myself; these guys were pretty protective of one another. I bet this Johnny kid here didn't do anything like this unless he felt like he had to, he was obviously uncomfortable, but he was looking out for a buddy.

Maybe Dally did find someone to replace me.

"I just think you got more reasons behind your visit than your telling me, but it ain't any of my business, sorry to bug you," he continued, backing away slowly as if I was an animal ready to attack him.

I couldn't help but chuckled, "Goodbye once again, Johnny."

I continued aimlessly walking, "What nosey little bastards in that gang of his," I grumbled.

* * *

I like writing from Shawn's POV, let's me show vulnerability and insecurities that are in her character, that you wouldn't otherwise see. I was originally going for something else this chapter, but then she ended up meeting with the gang. I wanted them to slowly piece together who Dally really is. He is a tough hood, but there's so much more to him, like Johnny saw! I know it may seem out of character for him to say something, but he really cares about Dally and in order to protect Dal in any way he can, I think he'd go and talk to Shawn himself.

Thanks to those who are reviewing, I love it. Please keep it up!!!


	7. Charlie

*I don't own _The Outsiders._

(DPOV)

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….......................................................................................................

_(10 years old)_

_I turned towards the dark alley way, taking a deep breath. I was alert and wide awake, the remnants of the nap I'd just woken up from shaken away with the fresh adrenaline pumping through my veins._

_I hated this, but it was just a part of life. I was delivering some samples and orders tonight, just like any other night, but this time it was different. Every job had its risks, you are working with tripped out low lives most of the time. But tonight, the samples were being delivered late._

_I don't know how, but to put it simply, Ed fucked up big time. So here I was, along with some kid named Charlie. This Charlie kid is a real character, short and scrawny for his age, but with a personality big enough to fill Texas. He'd been talking, but finally sobered up when we reached our destination: the warehouse at the end of the alley way._

"_Ready?" I asked._

"_As I'll ever be, they're going to be pissed. They're regulars though, so maybe they won't be too angry," he mused. _

"_Just don't fucking talk, you let me do the talking," I threw a threaten glance over my shoulder. The kid had the uncanny ability to slip out of sticky situations, but most of the time he made the sticky situation in the first place. If things are going good, he better keep the trap shut, but if things aren't going so well, he may be able to help out. _

_Charlie usually makes a situation worse before he makes it better, I hope he'll pull through tonight, without getting us shot at. Charlie has been shot at more times than he can keep track of, yet, somehow he always gets away unscathed._

_I don't fucking understand how the kid does it, but he just better not get me shot._

_I sighed, and tapped on the door, it flew open, "What the fuck do you want, little shits?" _

_I resisted the urge to glare, but a scowl still adorned my face. "Ed sent us," I spoke curtly. The guy's glaze hardened further and he slid out of the way, letting us enter._

"_You're fucking late; I was supposed to get my stuff two days ago, kid! Two fucking days is a long time without a hit!"_

"_Look, Ed sends his apologies, but it ain't any use yelling at us. We're just the messengers," I muttered, hoping to keep the guy calm so I could get the fuck home. _

_Some guy stalked in looking like he was high on shrooms or something. His eyes trained on a glass bottle, and he looked kind of like he's just seen a ghost jump out of a closet. He glanced at us and started screaming, "THEY'RE HERE TO GET US, THEY'RE GOING TO GET US!"_

_I felt my eyes widen slightly and I quickly glanced at Charlie. I wasn't sure if the guy was over dosing or what, but I'd never seen someone act like this. He must be mixing some of the drugs. He started bouncing all over and the guy broke of his bitching and started trying to calm his friend down._

"_No, dude, it's alright. They're just collecting for Ed and shit."_

_They guy didn't seem to be listening, he pulled a gun._

I blinked slowly at the clock. I could hear the three o'clock train running by. The whistle blew loudly, disrupting my thoughts. I could hear rowdy voices downstairs, including Buck's, despite the fact it was a Tuesday and three fucking o'clock in the morning.

Someone stomped down the hallway, stopping abruptly at the staircase, "Shut the fuck up before I shove your faces up your asses!" Shawn screamed.

I laughed loudly.

Outside my door she hissed, "That includes you, what the fuck do I got to do to get some sleep in these parts?"

"Find somewhere else to stay," I responded, not missed a beat.

The door flew open; her eyes blazed hotly, "You'd like that wouldn't you? You really would like if I just disappeared, you wouldn't even give a fuck if I was dead in a ditch would you?"

I was shocked, and it made my mind work slower than usual, or maybe it was the few beers I had before with Two-Bit. Slowly I mumbled, "Nah, I don't think I'd like you dead in a ditch," I smirked, "It would be such a waste of a pretty face."

She didn't say anything, just glared. Honestly, it was making uncomfortable, she just kept staring at me with this weird expression on her face. "What the fuck's you're problem?" I asked.

"Why are you treating me like this? Why…Why the fuck do you act like this? Oh who am I, Dallas fucking Winston. I hate it! I can't stand it! When the fuck will you be Dally again? When will you tell me what happened?"

"Charlie was shot that night," I said coldly. "In front of my face," I added. "I remember how the blood splattered on everything, all over me, and one moment he was talking to me, and the next he just wasn't…that's what it seemed like anyway," I frowned, trying to focus so there wouldn't be two of her.

I watched Shawn swallow hard, she walked up to me and sat down beside where I was lying on my bed. "Then you flipped?"

"I ran off, and I still had the samples and the police found me with them and all the blood and I got hauled in."

Shawn lied down by me, her hand brushing mine slightly.

I craved the comfort like a man in the dessert craves water.

"You could've told me a long time ago. You don't have to burry that stuff anymore," she mumbled. "You ran to heal, whether you want to admit it or not, and you might as well do it already. You got to face your demons sometime, Dal," she whispered.

"Regret is a hard pill to swallow."

"You were a kid. You made some bad choices, but everyone has. You did what you had to at the time," she mumbled. Drawing in a deep breath, "I see that now. All these years I felt like you didn't have to make the choices you made, but in a way you did. For the last couple days, I felt like you should've come to me for food, if that was the problem, but I see why you wouldn't. You got too much pride, who am I kidding, best buds or not, you wouldn't come to me for food of all things." She let out a breath slowly, "I'm done holding this against you. Now, are you done holding this shit against me?"

"I don't hold anything against you," I snapped, hating the way she saw through me, saw the reasons for every move I've made my entire life.

For the first time, in years, Shawn looked at me with vulnerable eyes, "But you do," she smiled sadly, patted my hand, and left.

I rolled onto the spot of the bed she had just been occupying; I basked in the warmth it provided.

* * *

I'm sorry I didn't get to update in over a week. I went on a field trip and then spent the rest of the week making up that work ontop of the usual work load.

I hope you liked the chapter. And yes, the event with Charlie is what led to 10 year old Dally getting sent to jail. I hadn't planned that, but it seemed to work really well.

The more reviews I get, the faster I update. I got one review last chapter, you guy's can do better than that!

Please share your thoughts with me and review!!


	8. Saddle Bronc

*I don't own _The Outsiders._

(SPOV)

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….....................................................................................................................................................................

(10 years old)

_I looked just about everywhere for that damn kid. Dal promised to meet me at noon and he didn't show up. It certainly ain't the first time Dally pulled this shit, but he usually doesn't pull it on me. He's probably still pissed off at me over splitting from Ed and the rest of the gang._

_Either that or something went wrong last night. I shuddered to think about what could've happened. Dallas could just be lying in some alley dying, and I ain't got a clue as to where to find him._

_I was desperate enough to consider going to Ed and asking if Dal was around. No matter what, those guys would know where one of their own is. There's fighting inside the gang all the time, but when it comes down to it, they know where who is and when. _

_It has to be like that. If it isn't, it'd make it too easy for people to come and go as they please. I was lucky I got out with no more than a couple broken ribs and a couple cigarettes burns. People get killed when they leave like I do, but I must've let a damn good impression to get out unscathed._

"_Where the fuck are you, bastard?" I grumbled under my breath._

_I groaned to myself. I had a bad feeling, a bad feeling that was getting worse by the minute. I chewed my lip for a moment, knowing the only way I was going to find anything out for sure was to go to Ed's place._

_I got there and received cold stares. I was allowed to come since most of the guys didn't give a shit. To them I was just some girl who couldn't handle the heat, but a few looked at me as if I were the dirtiest piece of shit they'd ever seen. _

_Either they wanted out and knew they were in too deep, therefore jealous, or they just really hated me._

_Whatever, like I give a fuck._

_I found Ed pretty easily. He looked half out of it, "Where's Dallas?"_

_He glanced at me, "What do you care?"_

"_Don't start your bullshit, just answer my question: Where the fuck is Dally?"_

_Ed smiled, a cold, chilling smile that raised goose bumps on my arms, "Kid got caught, he's in the cooler."_

_That certainly changed things._

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

This had to be the most boring thing I'd ever done. Getting to Tulsa was a bitch, but at least it was interesting. Some of them hippies know how to have a grand old time, and right now I was wishing I was with one of them.

I glared at the dust that flew around, and the pieces of hay that kept sticking to my clothes. Who the fuck likes this rodeo shit? Apparently Dallas does. I'd been wondering how Dal got to stay at Buck's when he didn't have a job to pay for the rent.

I guess this is his job, riding smelly horses.

I glanced around and saw his little toy Sylvia. She looked like she was having a good time, somehow. I prayed to God I don't see her kiss him after this show. He's got to smell like horse ass!

I grimaced as I saw a couple girls hanging onto some of the other "cowboys." How do you deal with the goddamn smell? You smell some pretty foul shit in the City, but horses are a whole different type of stink. I wrinkled my nose; I didn't hang on any boys that smelt like the streets of NYC, I sure as hell ain't going near any now.

The hood I'd seen at Buck's a couple times caught my eye, giving me a cocky smirk. I'd seen him and Dally bantering around that one night. It was the type of fellow I would expect Dal to be buddies with. That type is good to get on your side when shit flies, and knowing Dal, he probably is always stirring up trouble around here.

The little dark haired kid was the only one who noticed my presence as I made my way to the sitting area. He glanced at me and gave me a small smile.

I didn't return it, "It's boring, hot, and everything reeks of horse shit, remind me why I came?"

With that I'd caught the attention of the others. I don't know why Dally called them "the gang." None of them seemed much like gang members. That hood from Buck's passes easily as someone I'd consider to be in a gang, but not these guys.

Dal did say Tulsa was different. He also said gangs around here weren't like the ones in New York. There are hardly any names gangs around here. That cocky fucker over there is the leader of one, and then I think Dal had mentioned maybe two others. I'd seen the leaders at Buck's a couple times.

Ponyboy, I noticed with amusement, fit right in. I wonder how he'd feel about his name if he didn't like horses.

Damn, I think some weird shit.

Two-Bit chuckled, "Dollface, it's just getting to the good stuff. Bull riding is coming up."

I sighed, "Great so when whoever get thrown off and trampled, we'll all be sure to cheer extra loud." I shook my head, why would you want to ride a pissed off bull? Ain't that a death wish? It's not like you even get that much money if you win.

Pony glanced at me, "No one is going to get trampled."

I grinned, "Don't dash my hopes, kid," I teased. I don't know why, but I liked that kid.

He chuckled quietly.

"So after everyone attempts to fuck the poor bull, then there is?" I asked.

Darry eyes me while Two-Bit dissolved in laughter. "Saddle bronc," Darry answered.

"That's the one when the horse tries to throw you, right?"

Darry grinned a little, "Yeah, Dal does saddle bronc."

I snorted, rolling my eyes, "He would….So instead of fucking the bull, he's going for the horse," I grumbled to myself thoughtfully.

Two-Bit grinned, "You have a dirty mind," his gray eyes seemed to twinkle, "I like that."

I snorted loudly, "Honey, you'd never be able to handle this, quit wasting your time."

We both grinned cockily at one another. "I think I just threw up a little," Dallas laughed harshly from behind me. "Do I even want to know what the hell y'all are talking about?"

"Y'all?" I questioned. "It entertains me to no end to hear that accent you picked up around here," I shook my head. "Anyhow, I was just talking about how it's a waste of time to watch a couple guys dry hump a horse all day," I replied wickedly.

He rolled his eyes, "You would think of it that way."

I grinned proudly, "You can thank me anytime you want, you know I saved you from your prudish ways."

"I think your memories are a little fuzzy, Shawn, because if I remember correctly, I got my first kiss before you."

"Kissing that girl on the cheek in first grade does not count."

"Yes it does."

"I don't think so," I shook my head.

"Why the hell not?" He demanded.

"Because if kisses on the cheek counts, then we both had our first kiss when we were like two, remember that picture from your Mom's wedding of us? I was the flower girl and you were the right bearer, and we were both pissed about dressing up, so we got dirty on purpose, so there we were covered in dirt and you kissed my cheek for helping you ruin the wedding."

"I forgot about that, but it still doesn't count because it was you."

"I'm still a girl you know."

We both looked at one another for a second, "Know what," I grumbled, "you win because, _iew_."

"The feeling mutual, doll," Dally grumbled, fumbling with a cigarette.

Two-Bit laughed, "Y'all are like an old married couple!"

Gag.

* * *

Dally and Shawn are just hot and cold all the time,aren't they?

Doesn't that suck for Shawn? She had to go to her old gang leader to find out Dally was in jail.

You guys still have a lot to find out. More of Dally's home life, Shawn's home life, why the hell she came to Tulsa, the fight before Dally left, ect., so don't lose faith in me yet!

Sorry about the late update. It's going to be sporatic for the next month. School work and extracurriculars are taking over my life, even though school will be over next month.

Please, please, review! Thanks to those who have been reviewing, they're greatly appreciated!


	9. The Fat Lady Has Sung

*I don't own _The Outsiders. _

(Third Person POV)

* * *

"They're all gone," she said as she sat down, drowning half her Coke that he was positive was probably half rum.

"What?" Dallas looked at her nonplussed.

Shawn finished the glass off and motioned for Buck to get her a refill. "They're all fucking dead. That's part of the reason I came here. I don't have anything left…I got you, well, you're the only one alive and kicking anyway." Her eyes gleamed; she'd been drinking all night.

Dallas stared at her in disbelief, and he felt horrified for her. Did she mean her family? He knew how she got attached to people, and her parents were no exception. She loved them, even when they fought, and couldn't buy her school supplies when fall came around.

"You're parents?"

"Yeah," she sighed, looking truly heartbroken. "Shit happens."

"How?" Dallas wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his question. There are a lot of different ways you can get yourself killed in New York. Depending on who gets you, your death may even be drawn out, it wasn't unheard of. There are some sick mother fuckers up there.

She licked her lips and began to answer, but Buck interrupted placing her drink in front of her. She gave him the money and waited for him to go away before attempting to answer Dallas' question again.

She heaved a sigh again. "I don't know. We got evicted. Dad lost his job, the company he was working for cut back on employees, it wasn't his fault, it was based on how long you'd been there and Dad was only there for five years. That's nothing compared to the twenty, thirty odd years some put in…" she trailed off for a moment, her eyes far away, seeing something other than the peeling paint on the wall at Buck's.

She continued as if she'd never stopped, turning herself to look him in the eye. "Sometimes we went to different places. They'd crash at a friend's, and I'd go to one of my friend's house. Sometimes we'd take turns camping out in the park, which you know is pretty fucking dangerous, but we were desperate. Sometimes it was just the back of the car. It mostly depended on weather. Once in awhile we'd rent a motel room, shower without worrying about someone's water bill," she swallowed another mouthful of Coke and rum, Dallas took a moment to nurse his own drink, whiskey.

"It fucking sucked. We got pissed off at one another all the time. We were up each other's asses 24/7. Mom and Dad were at it all the time, fighting, cussing each other out. It wasn't too bad when I was a kid, but now it was twice a week, sometimes almost every day of the week. I couldn't fucking stand it. You know how I never could. I just wanted them to be happy. And, I was flunking in school. I had started working, trying to help out, and the whole situation took its toll on all of us. Man were my parents pissed when they saw some of my report cards, but at least then they took it out on me instead of each other."

"One weekend we had split up again. We planned to meet at the park on Sunday night. I was going to stay with a friend over the weekend. They weren't there when I got to the park. I couldn't find them. A week went by and I finally went to the fuzz. My parents wouldn't do that. Plus they knew when I worked, where I worked, when school was. They would've found me. I just denied it, maybe if I didn't then….but they were found in an alley way." She didn't dare look up; she didn't want anyone to see the tears in her eyes.

"Fuck." He didn't know what to say to that.

Dally liked Mr. and Mrs. Davners. They treated him like the son they never had. They let him scrounge for food at their house, even though things were tight for them too. Mrs. Davners was real pretty when she smiled, sometimes she'd bake cookies. Dallas always felt she was the definition of "Mother," that was until he met Mrs. Curtis. Mr. Davners was a cold man, growing up on the streets made him that way, but Dallas respected him. He never laid a hand on either of his girls, and once and awhile, Dal would see him take Shawn into a hug just for the hell of it. Sometimes he'd take Dal into a hug, but that was a long, long time ago.

The Curtis' were probably the only parents that topped the Danvers. The Curtis' had the perfect family, even if they did live on the East Side, when you went there, you could tell that all of the Curtis' loved each other. Mrs. Curtis showed Dally just how good some moms can be. Mr. Curtis was the epitome of what a father should be.

If he'd met Mr. and Mrs. Curtis when he was younger, before he'd gone to jail, he'd probably been jealous of Darrel, Sodapop, and Ponyboy.

The two headed outside. They sat behind Buck's, sipping their drinks but not talking.

Dallas threw his arms around her, understanding the pain reflecting in her eyes. She looked a lot older than he remembered ever seeing her. "You'll accept it eventually."

Shawn sniffed a little bit. "I'm a bitch for yelling at you about running. That's why I'm here. I ran after they died, well almost right after. I graduated first; I knew they'd want me to."

"Did we run? Or, did we just leave when we knew everything was fucked, and that it was over?" Dallas asked.

They'd both left New York. But, neither knew if it was running. There is a fine line between being a coward and backing down, and knowing when the fat lady has sung.

_Dally may have left first, but just because we were best friends, doesn't mean we were ready at the same time to leave. _Shawn thought to herself.

"I wish I fucking knew. I don't know anything anymore…I'm just drifting," she admitted to the only person she'd ever say any of this shit to.

"Sounds as good a plan as any," he grumbled.

Dally ran a hand up and down her arm. She couldn't help but think of the hundred times he'd done this before.

Everything was the same, yet different. Slowly, both of their stubborn minds were accepting it and moving on.

* * *

Now you know why Shawn really wanted to leave New York. Her parents were killed.

Sorry about taking so long to update, but once again, the end of the school year is crazy at best.

Thanks to those who reviewed. Please give me your thoughts! The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update.


	10. Left Yearning for More

*I don't own _The Outsiders_.

(DPOV)

* * *

"_You're such a fucking piece of shit! I don't know why I've been your friend for this long!" Shawn yelled at me._

_I blink at her, slightly hurt, before hot white anger took its place. "Maybe because I'm the one who has kept your ass around this long! Without me you would've been dead years ago!" I screamed back._

_She snorted at me. "Please," she scoffed, "that goes both ways." She narrowed her green eyes at me, her arms crossed against her chest. "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you are not welcomed here!" She glared at me hatefully._

_So what, I went to the cooler. Everyone around here and their brother has been to the cooler. Maybe not at ten years old, but who gives a fuck? Oh yeah, Shawn gives a shit, of course, and now she's giving me shit about it._

_What was I supposed to do? That crazy fucker killed Charlie in front of my face, I ran, I was caught with samples. I was scared for Christ's sake, and not in the right mind to avoid the streets I knew those damn officers were cruising. I panicked._

"_If you'd let me explain what happened-"_

_Bitch cut me off. "No, I don't want to freaking hear it anymore, Dallas! I'm done with this shit, I already told you that. I knew this wouldn't end well, I knew you'd get caught eventually, and I don't like it. I hate it! And, I refuse to sit around and watch you go in and out of the cooler every other month. I refuse to watch you get caught up in this shitty place, dealing drugs, or delivering, or whatever you want to call it!"_

"_I'm not getting caught up in it. I've never even done anything, I just needed the money!" I growled. _

_Why the fuck can't she understand what I'm saying? _

_I'm speaking English, ain't I?_

_She glared at me stubbornly, "Get out." She said evenly._

"_Excuse me?" I mumbled, the fight leaving my body. She was dead serious. I could tell by the look on her face that she really wanted me to leave. She didn't want to see me at all. _

_But…she's supposed to always be there._

_I glared, "I see how it is." I felt some satisfaction when she flinched at the venom in my voice._

_Her jaw clenched, "You're different. You're not who you were before."_

"_I just spent months in jail, what do you think? I've been dealing with a bunch of assholes who all think they're hot shots, and want nothing more than to pound you into nothing whenever the chance is presented."_

_Shawn glanced at me, "Sorry, but it's your own damn fault, now get out of my house." With that, she turned and made her way out of the kitchen. I stood there and listened to her footsteps upstairs, knowing full well that her bedroom was right above me. _

_A decade long friendship and she just turned her back on it like that?_

_I thought about what I had to go home to. A drunk, volatile stepfather and a Mother who eats pills like candy. _

_I really don't have fucking anything do I?_

_I left and didn't look back. I was going far away….maybe, somewhere down south?_

* * *

_(Shawn's POV)_

I blinked in the harsh sunlight. Stupid hangover, I usually can handle my liquor better, I'll blame it on the emotional outburst I had last night.

Dallas seemed to actually care about my parents dying. He wasn't that upset about it, but I could tell it bothered him on some level. For a moment, he was far away, or maybe that was my imagination. I wonder if he even remembers my parents that well.

I took a soggy pack of cigarettes from the banister. I glanced around and didn't see anyone around to claim them. I opened the pack and found they weren't too damp. "I hope I can get one of these lit."

In vain, I tried to light a couple, only getting more aggravated each attempt.

"You know those are done, and we also know those aren't yours, considering you ain't much of a smoker." I glanced at Dally, before throwing the pack to the ground. He sat beside me, and to my displeasure, continued talking, "Are you really stubborn enough to try and light wet cancer sticks? Or, just that stupid?" He smirked. "Hangover, eh?" He continued, enjoying my pain.

I scowled and looked away, even though that made me looks right into the fucking sunlight.

I heard the click of a lighter, "Here," he grumbled, handing me one of his Kools.

"I hate Kools," I stated, taking it anyway.

He rolled his eyes, "Then give it back."

"Don't think I will."

"Smoking on an empty stomach after drinking all night probably isn't a good idea," Dal grinned.

"Do you ever know when to shut the fuck up?" This just seemed to encourage him to keep annoying me.

"You know, I never thought the reason you were here would have anything to do with your parents," he mused.

I sighed, "Do you have a specific question? I really don't fucking feel like talking about them."

"Not really." He mumbled, almost thoughtfully. Jesus Christ, a thoughtful Dallas? That's pretty fucking scary.

I glanced at him sharply, "I don't know what you're thinking, but be careful, you don't want to hurt yourself."

"I was thinking about how your parents were kind of like the Curtis' parents were." He shrugged.

"Yeah?"

"They died a while ago, in a car accident."

I nodded, "I seen the pictures that one day, and the newspaper article on one of the frames." I grounded the cigarette, glancing tiredly at the waves of heat coming off the pavement.

"Do you ever think that one day you're going to wake up and realize you've wasted your entire life? I look at your parents and the Curtis', then I think about kids like Charlie, and I'll start thinking about a couple decades from now. Sometimes, I want things to stay the way they are, because it's just fucking easier that way. Then, other times, I wish I could've just gone ahead and died along with Charlie because that would've been even easier. But, sometimes, even though your parents and the Curtis' died pretty young, and didn't have a lot of money, they died with a real family, so at least they died with that accomplishment…I sound like a stupid pussy, forget I said any of this," he grumbled towards the end.

I was silent for a moment, "It ain't to late. You could still get a degree, be a cop," I grinned.

"Shut the fuck up. I ain't going back to that hell they call high school, and I don't want to be a goddamn cop!"

I laughed, "I seriously doubt you could become a cop with your record anyway, they'd think you were trying to corrupt the system from the inside out." Then seriously I told him, "We got our whole lives, Dal. They may not be what we wanted so far, but we still got a shitload of time to think about shit we want to do."

"Do we? Look at your parents, the Curtis', fucking Charlie, why don't you tell them that? They sure had a long time," he glared at the pavement.

I pursed my lips, hating when he started to get all difficult instead of just fucking listening to what they hell I'm saying. "Whatever, Dallas, and to answer your question, yeah I think about thirty years from now, when I look back and realize I'm completely pathetic, but I don't want to deal with this shit now. I don't like looking at kids like Ponyboy Curtis, who despite being an orphan, has a group of people who'd do anything for him, and the grades, intelligence, and the balls to dream big enough, that it will get him anywhere in the world. I hate the fact that I'll probably never see half of this state; much less see the entire world like I want to. I hate that I'll probably never have a job doing something I actually like, but that's just the way it fucking is."

"Yeah, but then you realize you ain't cut out for what you want," Dallas said.

"What do you mean?"

"Can you see yourself going to college like Ponyboy? Do you see yourself thriving in some university library like you know he will?" He asked.

"No."

The realization hit me hard, and left me felling worse than before.

"Exactly. Despite hating every Soc out there, you know we all wouldn't mind getting our hands on some of that money. Not to worry about meeting rent, bills, paying for school, whatever the fuck you need. I like being a Greaser, I prefer it to being one of those arrogant assholes, but everyone on this side still wants the money that them Socs have, and even if they won't admit it, they know it's true."

"Middle class has it made. They work for what they have, so they understand working hard for a dollar, but at the end of the month, they know they're going to have enough money for groceries and shit," I huffed. "I'd be a lying son of a bitch, if I didn't say I wanted some of that stability. Even though my parents gave me a lot, and tried to give me everything they could, they never gave me that," I confessed.

He shrugged, "You could've had it a lot worse."

I snorted, "I know that, but that doesn't mean I'm not left wanting more, just like everyone else. That's just the way human beings are. You hear all of those Preachers telling you to be grateful, and not to be selfish, but fuck that, who isn't at one point, who doesn't ever want more?" I scowled. "It's just that some people are left wanting more than others."

"Amen to that," he smirked causing me to laugh.

* * *

Some Dallas/Shawn bonding towards the end. It may seem OOC, but I did that on purpose, it helps you see how deep their friendship really goes. So, this story is winding to an end, and I'm already working on another one. I started the first chapter. I'm so sorry you all had to wait this long for this chapter, I don't ever do this, but this week I had three regents, and I only have one more next Tuesday and I'm done for good. Well, that is until I start AP homework I have to do over summer. :P

Please review!


	11. Keep On Living

*I don't own _The Outsiders._

(Dallas' POV)

* * *

Life sucks.

Nobody gives a shit, unless you give them a reason too.

Maybe they care because you fuck around with their daughter or their shit. Or, because they feel like they're supposed to give a shit. Either way, nobody cares unless they have to. They don't care unless they get something from you. That's just the way it is.

But, what is the sense in sitting around and complaining about it?

I sat at the Curtis' house, in their backyard. It'd been awhile since I'd come over. I hadn't realized that I hadn't talked to any of the gang since the rodeo, and I hadn't set foot in the Curtis' since the day Shawn came waltzing back into my life.

Weird how shit just seems to get in the way sometimes.

I glanced at the dumbasses I now consider family. Darry was about two seconds from getting the hose and blasting cold water on his brothers. Soda was chasing Ponyboy around with a fucking hotdog.

"What a fag," Shawn grumbled, watching everyone with a calculative expression.

"Shut up," I sighed, not needing her attitude.

"I kind of wish that I could…I wish that I was carefree like that still. I don't remember the last time I just ran around like an idiot because I felt like it."

I snorted, "The reason you don't remember is because the last time we acted like that we were in diapers. Soda and Pony have seen shit, and they're tough, but they never had to fend for themselves. They always had their parents looking out for them, and now they have Darry, they don't have a reason to look over their shoulder at night."

She fell silent. "Yeah, I guess so. You know, if I were in Darry's position, I don't think I'd been able to take in my younger siblings like that."

I glanced over at her, "Superman knows how to handle shit well. He got that when his parents died it could get real bad for his brothers, and he grew up real quick. He gets what he has to do and fucking does it, mostly without complaining."

"Not like he can complain. If he did, I'm sure it would hurt his brothers' feelings and shit right?"

"Probably, they're the kind to care about shit like that. Pony _would _take a small, harmless complaint from Darry and twist into something big," I rolled my eyes, that kid thought way too much, it's not fucking healthy.

"So are you staying or not?" I asked. "You got shit going for you here. I saw you making friends with a few people." I couldn't help but realize, that I kind of like having Shawn around again. I miss her when she's not around. She's my best friend because she's not afraid to look me in the eye and challenge me, she's not afraid to tell me how it fucking is.

I hate to admit it, but I need someone to tell me how it fucking is.

"I don't know. I already told you I'm just drifting. I don't know to do next."

"Life sucks, but you just got to take it," I advised.

"When the fuck did you get so wise?"

I smirked, "When I realized if I didn't, I was going to get myself killed, as someone so nicely told me," I gave her a pointed look.

"You still do stupid shit," she accused.

"I'm eighteen; I'm gonna fucking live my life."

"That's all we can do."

* * *

**The End!**

I had a little difficulty finding a way to end this. I like this though, it shows you their outlook on life, and how Dally and Shawn's life style just lets them do what they feel like. I liked ending without definitally saying whether Shawn would stay or not, I think that shows her personality well.

This is one of my favorite stories I have written. It's not the most popular at all, but I really liked diving into Dallas's past.

I have already posted the prologue of my **next story, "Combustion,"** please go and check that out.

Thanks to all of those who have reviewed. Please give me your last thoughts on the story. So, do you think Shawn would stay in Tulsa or leave? I'm curious to know what you all think.

**REVIEW!**


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